jemkat

Like a previous reviewer I have also only ever seen this film surface once. This was on TV here in Australia, possibly in the early 80s or a little earlier. My memory of it is that it was a satire come comedy come espionage thriller which I enjoyed immensely, despite the low one and a half star rating that I remember seeing in the current edition of Maltin at the time. I have wanted to see it again ever since, but have not had much luck in tracking a copy down. It was advertised for sale as a DVD item from a now defunct (or so I believe) internet vendor, but when I actually received the DVD it was some kind of rap music video with the same title! But I digress.

This was John Barrymore's next to last feature. (His last was Playmates in support of Kay Kyser!) It was during this period that Barrymore's career was in decline, and his roles were inclined to humorous self parody. While his performance here does not plumb the depths of self- caricature the way his role in Playmates does for example, my memory of the performance here is nevertheless along similar lines. Unlike many who find these and other similar roles towards the end of his career a demeaning waste of his talents, I actually enjoy THIS John Barrymore more than the posturing ham of his earlier years. Don't get me wrong folks...I appreciate the earlier works more than somewhat...it's just that I enjoy all of Barrymore's roles from the last few years of his career a lot more. (Am still waiting to see Hold That Co-ed by the way, which seems to be a starting point of sorts for these kind of Barrymore flicks).

Paramount had apparently lost interest in Frances Farmer by this time in her career, as they appear to have been relegating her to their B features or loaning her out to other studios. Her last two Paramount pics appear to be this and Among the Living, the latter being yet another film I am also waiting to see again after close to 40 years, a very fine dramatic thriller containing one of Albert Dekker's finest early performances. In any event Miss Farmer, who could be a very effective actress, was certainly not put to much worthwhile use in World Premiere as I have very little memory of her at all from this film.

Which brings me to the real stars of World Premiere and the main reason for watching it, Fritz Feld and Sig Rumann. Though nominally only supporting players they really do steal the film, and it is such a pleasure seeing them with far more sizeable roles than the mere walk-ons in which they were frequently cast. It has always been my contention that what gave the Golden Years of Hollywood their gold was the large reservoir of wonderful supporting character players which could always be drawn upon, and these two guys are among my favourites.

Hoping whoever owns the MCA library now will make this available again some time, but given the track record of MCA and Universal titles that seem to have sunk into oblivion, I am not holding my breath.

In my movie reference books this movie is variously described as a "bomb" or recommended as a suitable choice for inclusion in the 100 worst movies of all time. Nevertheless, I have no qualms in saying that it is not that bad, and was quite happy to sit for 65 minutes (the short running time probably helps) and see it through until the end.

To begin with Curt Siodmak's story is interesting enough (as are many of his screen writing efforts), and has more than a touch of complex moral ambiguity. His direction here however has very little flair and tends to be on the perfunctory side. The low budget is a major constraint, and for the most part the film tends to be on the flat side visually, with unimpressive jungle scenes and minimal interior set pieces of the kind typical for a low budget production.

The cast (described in one reference book as 4 non-actors) are actually all competent, and Raymond Burr, in fact, is quite good in the part, managing to impart a human dimension to what could have been merely an unsympathetic villain. In fact it is interesting to actually analyse how much of the films dramatic load actually rests on his shoulders.

Great performances from the four leads make this noirish melodrama a stand-out. Cast against type, Robert Young gives one of his finest performances (far more interesting than that in Crossfire), subtly giving his role of philandering but strangely sympathetic heel a depth which may perhaps go by unnoticed by some. Rita Johnson, in the minimal screen time alloted her, is likewise able to intimate complexities of character which imbue her role of manipulative wife with a touching frailty.

The shortened re-release version (which I viewed in a colourized copy) has been cleverly edited to leave the plot intact, but with 15 minutes of cuts significant elements of character development (all-important in a film of this type) have been sacrificed. The deletion of part of the scene at Nicks dilutes the initial warmth of the relationship between the Young and Jane Greer characters. And a concert scene which shows up the petulant nature of the Susan Hayward character has been deleted altogether. Other elements deleted from the re-release print are some of the opening remarks made by Frank Ferguson, and some dialogue between Young and Hayward when they are in his car on the way to her apartment.

In this 1954 potboiler set designer Carl introduces his sculptor friend Michael Donovan to the girl he wants to marry, ballerina Eve Malone. Any astute viewer of this kind of tripe can work out the rest of the plot from there. Production values are typical of the kind of thing Kenilworth churned out at this time, and although you would never call this the most charismatic cast ever assembled, for the most part they deal acceptably with a script which wouldn't inspire more than a mechanical response. Griffith Jones in the romantic lead puts his role across with all the panache of an accountant giving an end-of-year financial report.

British wartime propaganda film in which Hugh Williams plays a British foreign correspondent investigating German U-boat activities in Norway. The disparate elements of the film however, in terms of location, narrative and character, do not seem to have been successfully combined into a cohesive whole. Apart from the Hugh Williams character there is a lack of focus, and the film comes across as episodic and disjointed. Ralph Richardson, for example, is for the most part wasted in a role which despite popping up briefly all over the place, seems to have very little relevance to either plot or theme. Finlay Currie, always worth watching, does well by his part and has the most convincing accent of the piece, but Deborah Kerr sounds as Norwegian as praties. Francis L Sullivan trots out another of his well worn villains.

A film which springs immediately to mind after watching D-Day the Sixth of June is Abbott and Costello go to Mars. In that cerebral little opus A&C never actually get to Mars - they go to Venus instead, and even then it is only after some considerable preliminaries. Unlike that picture, D-Day the Sixth of June does actually get to the events referred to, but it is only as an aside for ten minutes or so at the end; like Abbott and Costello go to Mars, the title is a complete misrepresentation.

For most of its running time this film is actually a boring and clichéd melodrama in which Robert Taylor, Richard Todd and Dana Wynter play three two-dimensional characters involved in a love triangle against a backdrop of wartime England (Hollywood's conception of wartime England, anyway). The three roles may just as well have been played by cardboard cut-outs, but for what it's worth Richard Todd probably comes off best, being the only one of the major cast members who even hints at creating a real-life character. Robert Taylor is at his most wooden, and also possibly a little too old for his role. His love scenes with Dana Wynter generate less passion than an undertaker's convention. But then again, Dana Wynter always did seem to me to be a particularly passionless actress.

It can only be regretted that the film's makers did not spend more time on the subsidiary characters, who seem to me to be far more interesting. Brigadier Russell is well played by John Williams, and his resentment of the American interlopers is a theme which could have been developed far more fully. Likewise the flaky nature of Edmond O'Briens Colonel Timmer is never really explored or explained in any sense at all.

All in all, I enjoyed Abbott and Costello Go to Mars a lot more.

In an impartial assessment of this picture I would consider it as a below average low-budget actioner, and probably give it about four stars out of ten. It features flaccid direction and poor acting - Grant Withers demonstrates his usual lack of charisma as the hero, and Monte Blue overacts as the villain. Although the locations are scenic and photographed adequately, any virtue in this was probably lost on me due to the poor quality of the print I viewed.

However, knowing that this film was made before regulations regarding the treatment of animals were incorporated into the production code, it is impossible for me to be impartial about it. Now I don't know how this picture was made, and it is possible that the depictions of animal cruelty it contains were a carefully orchestrated illusion, but in the knowledge of what went on at the time in the absence of production code regulations, and the fact that we are looking at a low-budget feature from a company I never heard of, I cannot view this film without great unease. In any event, these scenes are very unpleasant and I rate this film accordingly.

Although I have always had a strong affection for the Francis pictures, probably because I grew up with them, I always found that the preponderance of military settings in the series was a little claustrophobic and cramped the potential for humour. (Consequently my favourites have always been Francis Goes to the Races and Francis Covers the Big Town). In Francis Goes to West Point I find this tendency to be at its most pronounced. Not only are we saddled with a military setting (and a confined one at that, so that there is not even the chance to open the story out a little), but as well as the usual mandatory romance between Peter Stirling and some Universal starlet, there is a another romantic subplot involving other cast members, and a hackneyed football sub-plot as well. For this reason I have always found this instalment the weakest in the series, an honour generally accorded to Francis in the Haunted House, but I'd take that over this any day. Pity that the opening scenes where Stirling saves a government plant from saboteurs didn't lead to some other kind of storyline.

This picture is actually two pictures in one. The central romantic comedy of the two strangers (Nino Martini and Patricia Roc) missing their trains and being stranded together for the night is contained within the framework of a satire on movie-making in which an incompetent Italian film producer, Fogliati (Charles Goldner), is trying to get his three scriptwriters to come up with a plot suitable for his latest singing discovery. It is in the latter which, for me at least, the best moments of the film come. Of note are the ten minutes in which Stanley Holloway steals the film without a line of dialogue, and the ending, suspiciously similar to one Woody Allen used many years later. I wonder how many other times this device has been used.

The core story is pleasant enough, but nothing out of the ordinary. It is however beautifully lit. Patricia Roc is pleasing as usual, but Nino Martini although a fine singer, is a bit hard to believe as a romantic lead. I have always however found Bonar Colleano's performances grating (you will know him from countless performances in English films of this period as an abrasive American), and here he is more so than usual.The parallels drawn to "It Happened One Night" unfortunately elude me.

Finally, for those interested, you will also find a very brief appearance by Christopher Lee as one of Fogliati's assistants.

I have seen two versions of this film - the 68 minute version supposedly recut by Orson Welles as part of his contract settlement with RKO (see IMDb trivia) and what I assume must be the first Norman Foster cut which was panned by the critics at the time. The latter I first saw on Melbourne television in the mid to late 1970s, and was impressed enough for me to rewatch it on two subsequent occasions within the next 10 or so years. The opening sequence with the fat assassin and the gramophone particularly stood out for me at the time because it was so unlike any movie opening I had seen in movies from this period.

Anyway, I had simply assumed that this was the version everyone else saw until I revisited the film again on Melbourne television last week and immediately realized from the opening minutes that this was not the same version I had seen all those years ago. Normally when I say this it is hard for people to believe I remember old movies this well, and simply dismiss it as being in my imagination, but fortunately I had an old VHS copy left over from my last viewing and was able to compare the two versions scene by scene.

For what it is worth, I prefer what I assume to be the original Norman Foster version, and it is this on which I have based my score of 8 for this movie. I still suspect that Welles had a directorial hand in this, all denials notwithstanding.

Unlike a lot of reviewers here, I was quite impressed by this film. Sure it's not scary - I didn't expect it to be - but it effectively builds an unsettling atmosphere without resorting to the usual mood enhancers such as haunted houses, gloomy mansions, isolated islands, etc. Prosaic things such as a spark generated from a railway wheel, the taking of a key, have an edge to them. There are also some very nice touches along the way, eg, the dog bringing the slippers to Carole Lombard's brother.

It is also interesting to see Carole Lombard this early in her career - from my point of view she acquits herself quite well in the part. And H. B Warner is also well suited to his role of Dr Houston. Randolph Scott however is wooden, and the role of Bavian could have done with a more charismatic player than Alan Dinehart. The real scene stealer in this movie however is Beryl Mercer - much better in this than anything else I have seen her in.

I also find this film interesting plot-wise, as I have on occasion come across texts which refer to "The Uninvited" as the first significant Hollywood film to deal with spirit possession when clearly this is not the case. I suppose it depends on what you mean by significant.

Anyway, it is certainly interesting to see what the makers of "White Zombie" came up with when they had the backing of a major studio.

This obviously pre-code sex farce provides the occasional laugh, but for the most part I find much of the humour laboured. The plot of mistaken identities brings to mind the kind of mix-ups the Mexican Spitfire series would perpetuate for RKO a decade later (without the sexual innuendo), and I couldn't help but think that Leon Errol would have made a far more amusing job of the dual role of Richard and Felix than Edward Everett Horton does here. While some of the stuff involving the butler's confusion is funny, I can't help but think that maybe Spencer Charters does, or has been asked to, overplay it just a tad too much. Unfortunately I found Laura La Plante neither appealing nor amusing in her role of Diane O'Dare, and Patsy Ruth Miller is only OK in her role as Minty. This leaves the most memorable character as Maude Eburn's surreal mother-in-law. Definitely overplayed as far as you could, but Maude Eburn somehow gets away with it.

Silly but amusing comedy built around radio comic Joe Penner as a stupid bank clerk who becomes involved in a bank robbery when he wins a trailer in a lottery. Some good gags - I like the one where Joe pulls up to a gas station with the trailer and no car - and able support from people like Lucille Ball as Joe's wife, and Friz Feld as a fortune hunting Casanova, make this a breezy way to spend 70 or so minutes. Pity other more "important" pictures weren't as enjoyable.

What can one say about a picture where Lily Pons sits up a tree making bird noises while Edward Everett Horton tries to get her down by saying "Pretty Polly"? Well, it certainly didn't appeal to audiences back in 1937, because sources indicate that this picture proved a financial bust and put an end to RKO's attempts to turn Miss Pons into a movie star. I enjoyed it though, and maybe some of the bizarre humour in "Hitting a New High" might go down better today. Of course the plot machinations are contrived and weak, but is there anyone who really watches this kind of movie for the plot? Raoul Walsh keeps things moving along at a brisk clip, and Lily Pons, while not the most charismatic of film personalities, is reasonably appealing as Ooga Hunga the "bird girl". She also gives a pretty unforgettable rendition of Saint-Saens La Rossignol during the proceedings as well, but purists may not approve. However, the film is really stolen by Edward Everett Horton and Eric Blore, a not uncommon occurrence at RKO around this time, and for me they give this film most of the entertainment value it has today.

If memory serves me correctly this is a remake of the 1937 Will Hay comedy "Good Morning Boys", to which it compares quite favourably. Coming a year before the cycle of St Trinians films began, it, and by default the Will Hay schoolmaster comedies of the thirties from which it derives, can be viewed as serving as a kind of prototype for that series. In any event it seems to me that the St Trinians films have far more in common with this little picture than they do with the far more sophisticated humour of "The Happiest Days of Your Life"(1950) with which they are usually linked.

Although for the most part he is generally forgotten today, I always found Ronald Shiner quite a likable comedy actor, and to be frank, I probably prefer him in this role to Will Hay, who in his guise as schoolmaster could become a little irritating at times. Interestingly I also find him a little reminiscent of Shemp Howard in places. I find it frustrating that I have been able to view so few of the films listed in his filmography.

Other familiar faces notable in the cast are a young Anthony Newley and a young Ronnie Corbett, Mary Jerrold as Mrs Bagshot brings Katie Johnson to mind......and there's also Richard Wattis as ...you guessed it.. a Ministry of Education official.

I remember as a kid listening to, and enjoying, Cicely Courtneidge on record, and of the affection with which she was spoken by my parents and grandparents. One viewing of this film could destroy all that forever, if this was the first Cicely Courtneidge film I had seen. Fortunately it wasn't, although some of the others aren't all that much better. But this story of the Marvello family and its two "queens" (both played by Cicely Courtneidge)has to be the worst of the lot. It is woefully unfunny throughout, the plot is boring and predictable, and the musical numbers are eminently forgettable. Made at a time when the British film industry sought to attract audiences with American names, the name in this case is Edward Everett Horton.I hope he didn't make the trip to Britain just to make this film, because his talents are wasted.

This musical comedy from the early years of British talkies is one of only two films to feature once popular music hall and recording star Violet Loraine. In it she plays Bessie Bolton, a fishmonger's wife who is "discovered" by a film studio when her singing is accidentally recorded while they are filming at Billingsgate Fish Market. The rest of the film concerns the effects this has on the rest of her family, husband Bert(well-played by familiar cockney character actor Gordon Harker), son Fred (a thankless part for John Mills) and daughter Pearl (a gross caricature of the working class by Kay Hammond).

Unfortunately plot-wise not much of this is very entertaining, and perhaps apart from Violet Loraine herself and Gordon Harker, Drusilla Wills as Mrs Wigglesworth comes off best. While the role of Italian film director Guidobaldi (Anthony Holles) may have been intended as humorous it falls flat from start to finish.

Miss Loraine and fellow music hall star George Robey were responsible for introducing one of the most popular songs of World War I, "If You Were the Only Girl in the World". While none of the musical numbers in this film approach that kind of success, one must admit that they are pleasant enough on the ear without being in any way memorable, and in fact the musical numbers are probably the best thing about the film. Which I guess in its own way is a tribute to an almost forgotten leading lady from the British music hall past.

"Always A Bride" is one of those little-known but delightful comedies from what I have always thought of as the Golden Age of British Comedy (late 40s into the 60s). The entire cast is ingratiating, with that wonderful British character actor Ronald Squire a standout. Terence Morgan, an actor I am not always fond of, has never been more likeable, and Peggy Cummins does her usual efficient job in the role of leading lady. The humour tends towards the subtle and wry rather than the broad, and co-scripter Peter Jones can be seen briefly making the best of a supposed foreign lingo in an early scene. Also appearing briefly as a cab driver is Sebastian Cabot.

This short film (only 43 mins) may possibly have been made as a public service exercise by Rank because it seems an unlikely piece of material to have been attempted as a commercial venture. But for what it is, a cautionary tale about the consequences of drunk driving, the lesson is acceptably presented in a surprisingly intense and well-directed little film which I even found to be quite suspenseful in places.

For such a short running time the characters are reasonably well fleshed out, and for the most part well played by the cast involved. Barry Letts in particular does a fine acting job throughout. Admittedly the part of Reggie is only a caricature at best, and although the roles played by Dermot Walsh (particularly in the last few minutes) and Susan Shaw verge on being overplayed this contributes to the intensity of the film as a whole. It is also good to see Patricia Hayes, an actress familiar to me through countless TV appearances back in the 60s and 70s, in one of her early screen roles.

For a British film of this time I also find this film to be quite fascinating in its depiction of class. The drunken yobbo here is not the working-class mug played by Barry Letts, who retains a degree of integrity throughout, but the upper class Captain (Dermot Walsh) who consistently makes it clear how little he thinks of his social inferiors. The sad part about this film for me is that I still recognise him, and the socially aspirant Susan Shaw character, however broadly drawn they are here, in people around me today.

In fact everyone is at the top of their form in this wonderfully entertaining movie, but Ginger has never been better. Even Alan Marshall, who frequently came across in films as being a little on the smarmy side, is quite likeable here. And Phil Silvers is wonderfully obnoxious as the ice-cream salesman.

It is interesting to compare this film with it's 1957 remake "The Girl Most Likely", which apart from its musical numbers sticks pretty close to the original. Now "The Girl Most Likely" is quite an entertaining film in itself, and Jane Powell is certainly a talent not to be sneezed at. But having seen both films a number of times it always surprises me just how much better "Tom, Dick and Harry" is, and how flat "The Girl Most Likely" seems in comparison. Garson Kanin has somehow managed to infuse a lightness and subtlety of wit into the original which seems to have eluded Mitchell Leisen in the remake. And of course the three male leads in "The Girl Most Likely" don't hold a candle to the three male leads here.

In this so-so British comedy Michael Redgrave plays the business magnate father of a socially awkward daughter who causes all manner of misunderstandings for her father and family friend Roger Livesey when she becomes friendly with the son of their American business associate. The plot is reminiscent of the kinds of things Walt Disney used to make at around this time, a fact brought home even more so by the fact that Juliet Mills (sister of Hayley, who was to appear for Disney that year in The Parent Trap after her success in Pollyanna the year before) plays the daughter.

Unfortunately, the chuckles (laughs would be an exaggeration) do not come all that frequently, and the picture as a whole somehow also seems to smack of a British establishment aura which would have made it perfect fodder for a Conservative party fund-raiser at the time. Nevertheless, it is all quite competent, and a reasonable enough diversion for 90 minutes or so.

This early Bob Hope feature is very funny, and quite charming in its own particular way to boot. Of Hope's more frequent leading ladies in film, I have always found his teamings with Martha Raye to be the most satisfying, possibly because Bob and she seem to feed off each other in a way his other regulars (Paulette Goddard/Lucy/Dottie) didn't. Perhaps it has something to do with their vaudeville background. Anyway, both Bob, and particularly Martha, are far more subdued in their roles here than usual, and Never Say Die benefits enormously as a result. (Perhaps in the case of Hope this is due to the fact that this film comes so early in his screen career, before his on-screen persona of the egocentric and cowardly would-be ladies man was so firmly established). Their characters of John Kidley and Mickey Hawkins here somehow have a human dimension which is usually lacking in the usual Hope or Raye portrayal (no matter how enjoyable), and the warmth of the romantic scenes between the two in this picture is something which in my opinion is unique, never repeated by either of them in any of their other film work again.

There are other aspects of Never Say Die which have always made it one of my favourite Hope pictures...Gale Sondergard as a man hungry widow, Monty Woolley in a small role as an ambitious medico, Andy Devine as Martha's intended, and especially Sig Rumann as Poppa Ingleborg in some hilarious scenes at the hotel. Also Preston Sturges involvement in the script does show. And has already been noted elsewhere, fans of Danny Kaye may be interested in viewing this picture if only to see an earlier (and one must admit less successful) incarnation of the "flagon with the dragon" routine from The Court Jester.

I Was A Spy is one of the better pictures to emerge from the early days of British talkies. It certainly stands up well against its American competition, which sad to say, many other British pictures of this period don't. The cast is uniformly good, and Madeleine Carroll is lovely as always. Perhaps the only reservations I have in this area is the way in which Herbert Marshall can deliver his lines a bit mechanically at times. Victor Saville's direction is nicely understated, yet the film can be quite exciting at times. There are two memorable scenes - the church parade, and the quietly effective closing moments of the film. Well worth seeing.

This is one of those movies which usually gets dismissed as ephemeral junk (look at the ratings in all those "Movies for TV" type books). But so far this year I have seen it twice, and have enjoyed it immensely both times round. This is certainly not due to the plot, which is your standard guy joins armed forces..guy has attitude problem...guy learns the error of his ways type plot which seemed to be recycled endlessly by Universal at around this time in their Abbott and Costello pictures. Fortunately the plot doesn't intrude too much into this movie, and in fact apart from its patriotic fervor, which is understandable in the context of the time, one of the joys of this picture is that it doesn't take itself in the slightest bit seriously.

What this picture does have going for it is a great cast, and a veteran comedy director. While the cast may not be big name stars, for anyone out there familiar with the entertainment world of this period, almost everyone in it has a recognizable persona. It also has some great music, and some really off the wall humour. The opening sequence with Shemp Howard and Mary Wickes is an absolute delight, and the surreal nature of the humour continues throughout (especially the bit with Ernest Treux), even into the musical numbers. The Andrews Sister's "apple tree" effort has to be one of the most bizarre (and entertaining) musical numbers I've ever seen. Finally, watching this picture reminded me of what a personable performer, and of what an under-appreciated singer Dick Foran was. I give it 8 out of 10. No accounting for taste, is there?

Irving Pichel in his time directed some very interesting pictures. This 1937 B-effort from Republic is not one of them.

In the plot, such as it is, an unhappily married female reporter is assigned by her boss to beef up the public profile of a naive but honest politician who is running against the crooked incumbent in an upcoming election.

The far from stellar cast are competent in what they do, but you would not exactly call them the most charismatic group of actors ever assembled. The only cast member coming remotely close to being a "name" today would be Dwight Frye of Universal horror picture fame, and his role of a "spy" in the electoral office of our hero Donald Cook is of minimal significance to the picture.

I can't really say that this picture is bad...just of very little consequence, and ultimately, very forgettable.